


Pastures

by IKrose234



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Alternate Universe - Transcendence, Because they are precious, Other, Random one-shots about Alcor's Flock
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-08
Updated: 2015-07-08
Packaged: 2018-04-08 07:33:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4296123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IKrose234/pseuds/IKrose234
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alcor was something new to the Flock.  Their old masters had never acted like him; this was a learning experience of sorts.  Alcor had given them a great pasture to explore, and they were still mapping out the limits and land marks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pastures

**Author's Note:**

> Heeeeeey, first thing I've posted on AO3, it's nice here! My contribution to the fandom. The emotional range varies chapter to chapter, but this one is pretty mellow. Additions will be completely random, but enjoy this little short blurb :)  
> (I wrote this at 3 in the morning and didn't reread, so probably had some typos mixed in there)

The Flock didn’t understand time. They didn’t need to. Content within the Mindscape, straying out only to cause mischief, they didn’t care to watch the “real” world transition and struggle. This practice was sometimes – very rudely – interrupted with no rhyme or reason. 

Alcor weathered the passage of time, which baffled them. They had accepted this as part of their life, and watched him cycle again and again through horrible grief, joy, rage, and shunning humanity. They didn’t understand, but they didn’t need to. They made themselves scarce during his rages, were vigilant at his side during his grief, drawn to his joy, and patient when he lost himself. They didn’t understand it, but they could see the pattern. It was normal, it was stable, it was what they were happy and content with. 

These surprise visits were not. A human child stood among them, eyes wide under platinum blond bangs. Stray hairs curled at rosy cheeks, the rest bundled into a ponytail. It didn’t seem worried nor particularly excited by the Flock. The two parties regarded each other with mutual curiosity, confusion underlying the glances. It wasn’t the first time a child had appeared in their midst.

 _Do we try to get rid of it?_ Some mumbled, before quickly being shoved aside. _Alcor gets upset about hurting children_ , more warned. The Dreams, ever the instigators, decided they didn’t particularly care about the discussion, and would much rather play with the child. The child was definitely interested in them, running its fingers through their shimmering rainbow wool and chasing after them. The Nightmares, unable to reach a majority, made no decision at all, instead scattering to preform various tasks, or otherwise watch the child. 

They recognized it. Well, they recognized the soul, and that was all they needed. Mizar was an uncontrollable element, they had learned, with no pattern and impossible to predict. However, in times such as this, Mizar was prone to appearing to find their brother after he spent too long adrift. They could sense the soul’s intent – though as an individual Mizar was never aware – to make sure its brother would return. It was the consensus of their bond, a near visible link that had started with Mabel. She had burned so brightly, so fiercely, the remnants of her promise with Alcor were forcefully impressed upon the soul, like a brand. This was Mizar the Gleeful, the Twin Soul, the Brightest Star, the Most Faithful, the Beloved, the one who under no circumstances allowed their twin to leave them.  


Even as Alcor stood before the little Mizar, unaware of their bond, the Flock knew. They could see the thoughts flitting through his head, how easy it would be to crush this life that had wandered into his territory, the lust for blood, the endless urge to kill and destroy. They saw the golden string between souls wrap around his wrists, stopping them, encircling his heart and his throat, whispering _Mizar . . . Mabel . . . Sibling . . . Mine . . . Mizar. . ._

No matter what child wandered into their pasture, no matter how far gone their master was, no mattering how long it took for Mizar to find Alcor, the Flock understood that one would never be able to harm the other (not on purpose, at least).

The Flock didn’t understand time, or the human world, or the insanity of human emotion, but they completely and utterly understood the nature of Alcor’s curse and blessing. They understood that whenever a strange child appeared in their pasture, Mizar is back to retrieve their brother.


End file.
